


Monster Mash

by AryaNoName (merrymegtargaryen)



Series: Westeros Academy [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/AryaNoName
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Starks throw a Halloween party. Chaos ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster Mash

.  
SANSA  
.

“Girls!” Catelyn shouted up the stairs. “The guests will be here any minute!”

“We’re almost ready!” Sansa shouted back down. She reached up to fix the bow in her hair, but Jeyne smacked her hand away.

“You look fine, stop fidgeting.” 

“You look adorable,” corrected the other Jeyne. “So do you, Gilly.”

Gilly flushed at the praise, clearly unsure of how to accept it. “You look amazing,” she said. “I wish I could, you know, pull something like that off.”

“I do look good, don’t I?” Jeyne Westerling said excitedly. Her Jasmine costume showed off her toned stomach and a generous amount of cleavage. “I thought about going as Pocahontas, but when Robb said he wouldn’t go as a prince, I decided to make him regret it.”

“What’s he going as again?” Jeyne Poole asked, pulling up her gloves.

“A zombie,” Jeyne sighed.

“How original,” Sansa said, rolling her eyes. 

“How did you convince Pod to come as a prince?”

Sansa blushed. “I didn’t convince him,” she insisted. “I just told him that we were going as Disney princesses and he said he would be Prince Eric to match me.”

“Keep him,” Gilly commanded. 

Someone hammered on the door.

“We’ll be there in a minute!” Sansa shouted.

The hammering persisted and Jeyne Westerling threw open the door. Robb, in full zombie getup, reached for her. “We’ve come for your braaaaains.”

Jeyne smacked his hands away. “Ruin this costume and you really will be the walking dead.”

Theon appeared, hooting with laughter. “Jeyne made a funny.”

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” she wanted to know, indicating his spray tan and fake six-pack.

“I’m the situation,” Theon replied in a poor attempt at a Jersey accent.

All of the girls groaned and shoved the two boys out, locking the door behind them.

“I’m not gonna lie, though,” said Jeyne Poole. “He could give me a situation anytime he wanted to, if you know what I mean.”

“I do, unfortunately,” snapped Sansa. “That’s my brother you’re talking about.”

Jeyne didn’t seem to care.

Satisfied with their costumes, the girls finally descended the stairs. Catelyn was milling about in her Queen Elinor costume, arranging the Halloween treats and smacking away Robb and Theon’s hands whenever they reached for one. Bran, Jojen, and Meera sat in a corner, their masks pushed up on top of their heads as they discussed the commercialization of Halloween (Sansa didn’t think it prudent to point out that they were dressed as characters from a Halloween movie). They could hear Jon and co. in the basement, laughing loudly at what sounded like a game of Mario Kart. 

“Where’s Aemon?” Gilly asked.

“Ned has him; putting him in his little mouse costume, it’s so adorable.”

As if on cue, Ned strolled out of the kitchen with the toddler in his arms. Aemon was indeed dressed as one of the singing mice from Cinderella to match his mother, and Ned was dressed as King Triton, complete with a tail, no shirt, and a flowing white beard. Sansa didn’t know whether to be proud or humiliated.

Jeyne Poole wolf-whistled. “Looking good, Mr. Stark!” 

Sansa wanted to die, but the other girls voiced their agreement.

“My dad would never put that much effort into a costume,” Jeyne Westerling complimented. 

“Well, he is my favorite,” Ned said with an absurd kind of pride, handing Aemon to his mother. “But you girls look stunning!”

Jeyne Poole twirled. “I never pass up the opportunity to be a princess. It’s too bad some people,” she said with a pointed raising of the voice, “don’t care about the theme!”

“Hey, at least we’re still Disney affiliated!” Bran retorted. “Robb and Theon aren’t, and neither is Jon or his friends, or Arya and her friends, or Rickon—”

The doorbell rang, sparing Bran from anymore lamentations over his family. Sansa handed out candy to the group of trick-or-treaters and was about to close the door when she saw Podrick walking up the drive. They both blushed upon recognizing each other, and Sansa was glad her back was to the living room so her family couldn’t see her. 

“You look handsome,” she said when he had drawn level with her. And he did; Prince Eric’s white tunic suited him, as did the red sash around his waist. And Pod really did look good in boots. 

“So do you,” he blurted. “I mean, not handsome, but you look nice too. You look really pretty. I mean, you always look really pretty, but tonight you’re a princess, and, um.”

“You’re sweet,” she told him, squeezing his hand. “Come inside, the party’s just starting.”

The girls all exclaimed over Podrick when he entered, much to Robb and Theon’s dismay.

“I just think it’s really sweet,” said Jeyne Westerling, smirking at her boyfriend, “that you were willing to dress up as a prince for Sansa. If only more boys were like you.”  
Robb stormed moodily down the basement stairs.

Catelyn snapped a picture of Sansa and Podrick and then insisted on getting one with them and Ned. Sansa was spared further embarrassment when the doorbell rang again, this time revealing Edric Storm and Edric Dayne dressed as a pair of Siamese twins.

“I’m Edric!” said Edric Storm.

“And I’m also Edric!” said Edric Dayne.

Almost everyone in the room groaned. This was how the two Edrics introduced themselves to each other literally every single time they met someone new.

“How cute!” exclaimed Catelyn, who had clearly never heard their little routine before. “And Siamese twins, how clever!”

“Don’t encourage them, Mrs. Stark,” Jeyne Poole warned. 

They heard a thundering from the basement, and when they looked up they saw Robb and Theon leading Jon, Ygritte, Sam, Pyp, and Grenn up the stairs. They were dressed as various members of the Watchmen, much to almost everyone’s disdain.

“You look beautiful, Gilly,” Sam said with a blush, as if they hadn’t been dating for almost two years.

“Thank you, Sam,” she returned with a blush of her own. “You look very…dashing.”

“That’s one word for it,” Pyp sniggered.

“Look at you, girl!” said Ygritte, bumping hips with Jeyne Westerling. “Aw, Robb, you should’ve gone as Aladdin, you could’ve taken your shirt off.”

“I am not dressing up like a Disney prince,” he said flatly.

“He’s also not getting laid tonight,” Jeyne Westerling sang under her breath.

The other guests began to trickle in, and soon the house was full of “The Monster Mash” and “Thriller” and people talking and laughing. Robert arrived dressed as Captain Kirk and had somehow conned Stannis into dressing as Spock; Shireen and Selyse, following the Disney theme, had come as Rapunzel and Mother Gothel; the Seaworth brood was dressed as Ghostbusters; Melisandre, Thoros, and Beric Dondarrion arrived as pirates (“He can play with my stranger tides, if you know what I mean,” said Jeyne Poole, effectively grossing Sansa out for the rest of the night), Edmure and Roslin swept in as fish and chips, Asha Greyjoy arrived in full Viking gear, Jaime and Brienne came as Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman, Loras and Renly arrived as Bert and Ernie, and Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand showed up as a ‘20s mobster and a flapper. Even Hodor made a brief appearance, pleased with the Frankenstein’s monster costume his grandmother had made him. 

Arya, Rickon, Gendry, Hot Pie, and Lommy arrived about halfway through the party, bags laden down with the evidence of their trick-or-treating. Arya and her friends had chosen to go as Justice League characters (mostly because she wanted to be Batman dammit); Gendry was rocking the Superman costume while Hot Pie was the Green Lantern and Lommy sported an Aquaman costume. 

Rickon had gone with a simpler costume idea and had demanded to be a werewolf. He ran around the guests, sniffing them and howling. Ned tried to move him to a different room, but the guests (mostly female) insisted that it was cute and couldn’t he please stay, Mr. Stark, he wasn’t hurting anyone. 

“Well, what do you think?” Sansa asked anxiously.

Podrick smiled. “I like it. Everyone’s having a great time.”

“Are you having a great time?” she wanted to know.

Podrick squeezed her hand. “I’m with you. Of course I’m having a great time.”

Sansa beamed.

That was when the trouble started.

.  
CATELYN  
.

“I’m always happy to have guests, but did we have to invite Oberyn and Ellaria?” she complained.

“Now, Cat, Oberyn is a good friend, and Ellaria can be very sweet,” Ned placated.

“She’s certainly been sweet on you tonight,” Catelyn muttered over the rim of her Solo cup. The punch tasted a little strong and she was fairly certain Theon had dumped Everclear in the punchbowl. Good, she thought, watching Ellaria Sand. The Dornish woman already had the attention of every unattached male in the room, but Catelyn couldn’t help noticing she kept flirting with Ned. She was going to need to be a lot drunker before the night was over.

“What?” Ned looked stunned. “Ellaria? But she’s with Oberyn, and she knows we’re married with kids…are you sure—”

“I know what flirting women look like,” Catelyn snapped. “I’ve done it once or twice in my life, believe it or not.” There was a lot of Everclear in this punch.

Ned held up his hands defensively. “It just seems unlikely, is all. You know, she and Oberyn are naturally flirtatious; she probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.”

Catelyn snorted into her cup.

Robert swept Ned away not long after, leaving Catelyn to brood. Edmure and Roslin stumbled over, laughing as Edmure’s feet got caught in his fin. “Why the long face, sis?”

“Women keep hitting on my husband,” she complained. “I’m right here!”

Edmure repressed a belch. “Do you want Roslin to beat them up?” At Roslin’s incredulous face, he shrugged. “I have an ethical problem with hitting women.”

“It’s fine,” said Catelyn, “I just—look, she’s doing it again!” 

Edmure and Roslin looked to where Ellaria was laughing at something Ned had just said. That’s how Catelyn knew it was flirting; Ned wasn’t funny.

“Roslin, kick her ass,” Edmure commanded before tripping over his fin again. A giggling Roslin helped him to his feet and dragged him over to the couch.

Catelyn was less amused. She downed the rest of her punch and stormed towards Ellaria. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she growled.

Ellaria had the audacity to look surprised. “What are you talking about?”

“Stay away from my husband,” Catelyn snapped. 

Ellaria raised a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow. “Why, are you afraid he’ll swim away from you?”

Catelyn turned red. “Ellaria, I’m warning you…”

“And I’m very threatened, but I’d prefer not to make a scene,” the other woman said.

“Well, that’s too bad,” said Catelyn, and she punched Ellaria in the face.

.  
THEON  
.

Theon had indeed spiked the punch.

Don’t get him wrong, the Stark family Halloween parties were always fun. But he was in college now, basically an adult. The best parties, in his opinion, were the ones where everyone got the drunkest. 

And he was right: everyone seemed to be having a great time. Robb and Jeyne Westerling were having a very intense discussion that Theon felt sure meant his adoptive brother was going to get some action tonight, Melisandre was cracking up at something Thoros said, Jaime was lounging in Brienne’s arms, and even Stannis looked like he was enjoying himself. 

The best part, though, was when Jeyne Poole flounced over to him in her Belle dress. “I tried to think of a Situation pun but I couldn’t, let’s just make out.”

It was probably morally wrong to make out with a drunk sixteen-year-old, but no one ever said Theon had morals.

.  
BRAN  
.

“I’m bored,” declared Jojen. Meera had left them a while ago in favor of Asha Greyjoy, and it was just the two boys in the same corner as before.

“We could go see the dogs,” suggested Bran. “They’re all in the garage since Shireen is allergic.”

“We could do that,” agreed Jojen. “But I was thinking something a little more private.”

Bran glanced around nervously. “Here? Now?”

“It’s Halloween, Bran; this is a holiday that makes its money off horny teenagers,” laughed the older boy. “No one will think twice if we go to your room and ‘play video games’ for a while.”

Bran considered it. His boyfriend was right; they spent hours in his room all the time, decidedly not playing video games, and no one suspected a thing. 

“Just for a few minutes,” Jojen wheedled. 

“Well, I guess a few minutes won’t hurt,” Bran relented. 

Jojen grinned and wheeled Bran to his bedroom.

.  
ARYA  
.

Meanwhile, Arya had been getting steadily drunker, both on the punch and the gin that Gendry had stolen from his father’s extensive liquor cabinet.

And a drunk Arya was an angry one.

“Fuck them,” she said from where she was reclining on the trampoline.

“Who?” a not-very-sober-either Gendry wanted to know.

“Y’know, Jon an’ them,” she slurred. “They’re such fucking douchebags. Who the fuck dresses as the Watchmen for Halloween?”

“We’re dressed like the Justice League,” Lommy pointed out, bouncing a little. Gendry reached over to smack him.

“Yeah, but that’s different,” she insisted. “The Justice League is classic. The Watchmen aren’t even real superheroes, okay?”

“They are superheroes, though,” Hot Pie belched. 

“They’re a commentary on superheroes,” Arya explained in a long-suffering manner. “It’s just the kind of pretentious college thing they would do.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gendry tried to say, but the backdoor opened and the Watchmen in question poured out into the backyard.

“Thought I saw you sneak out here,” Jon said, stumbling off the patio.

“What do you want?” Arya demanded, trying to stand up. But she was drunk and on a trampoline and just ended up sprawling over Gendry’s lap.

Pyp held up his hands defensively. “We just wanted some fresh air.”

“Your costumes are cute,” Grenn said. “Who are you, the Stupid Friends?”

Arya jumped off the trampoline. “We’re the Justice League, you stupid piece of lint!”

“Arya,” Gendry warned, edging off the trampoline.

“I’m not a piece of lint, Batgirl,” Grenn complained.

“I AM NOT BATGIRL!” Arya screeched. “I’m Batman!”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Grenn snorted. “Batman isn’t a girl.”

Everyone sucked in a breath as they watched Arya’s face turn purple. 

“JUSTICE LEAGUE!” she shrieked. “ATTACK!”

.  
SANSA  
.

It all happened at once.

Ned let out a shout, and everyone turned to see Catelyn swing at Ellaria Sand and send her reeling into Edmure and Roslin’s laps.

“Mother!” Sansa exclaimed, but Rickon burst into the living room before anything else could happen. He took a deep breath and shouted, “ARYA AND ALL THEM ARE FIGHTING JON AND ALL THEM!” 

“Oh, seven hells,” Sansa groaned, joining the throng of partygoers stampeding to the backyard. 

It was just as embarrassing as Sansa feared.

Pyp and Grenn were wrestling with Gendry, Ygritte had Hot Pie in a stranglehold, Lommy was kicking a curled-up Sam, and Arya was on Jon’s back, raining punches all over his head.

“Stop it!” Sansa screamed. “You’re spoiling everything!”

Robert was booming with laughter. “That’s my boy!” he roared. 

“Mr. Baratheon, please!” Sansa complained. Robert sighed and joined Stannis, Renly, and Loras in extricating the fighting teenagers—but not before Lommy heaved up the contents of his stomach.

A shout came from inside the house and Sansa ran to see what else was the matter.

Ned was standing at the doorway to Bran’s room, a hand slapped over his eyes. The definitive smell of weed filled the room, and upon peering around her father, Sansa saw Bran and Jojen, neither of whom were wearing shirts but were wearing guilty expressions.

“I, ah, didn’t know you, ah, felt that way, Bran,” Ned was babbling. “I, ah, your mother and I—gods bless her—are…very proud of you, of course, and we support you in, you know, well, everything.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Bran said miserably.

Sansa heard giggling behind her and turned to see Jeyne and Theon stumbling into the hall. Their hair was mussed, Theon’s shirt was missing, his belt was unbuckled, Jeyne’s dress was askew, and she was sporting several hickies.

“What’s going on?” she giggled, holding onto Theon for support.

Sansa wished the floor would open up and swallow her. When it didn’t, she ran to her room and buried her head under her pillows.

A knock came on the door several minutes later.

“Sansa? Is everything okay?” 

She turned red; she didn’t want Podrick to see her like this. She could feel him sit beside her on the bed and place a tentative hand on her back. 

“Everything’s horrible,” she sniffed. “I wanted you to like my family.”

“Well, I do like your family,” he said gently. 

She peered at him from underneath a pillow. “You’re not just saying that?”

He smiled. “Never a dull moment with you Starks. If you wanted to know, most of the guests are leaving. Your mother went to lie down. Arya and Lommy threw up all over the place and Hot Pie passed out. Rickon bit Jaime Lannister, and all your brothers are giving Jojen the boyfriend talk they gave to me and Gendry.”

“I’m so sorry you had to see this,” Sansa groaned. 

“Sorry?” Podrick exclaimed. “For what? It was great! If this is your Halloween party, I want to see what your Christmas party is like!”

Sansa buried her head under the pillows again.


End file.
